


Just Another Day

by spikesgirl58



Series: Mouth of Babes [56]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 16:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19727467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: It's too hot to sleep, too hot to work, what's a grandfather to do?





	Just Another Day

“Are you asleep?” The voice, while still soft, carried over the sound of the fan.

Napoleon Solo sighed and turned on his bedside light. His partner stood in the doorway of the bedroom “I wish. I’m guessing it’s no cooler in your room?”

“Not even with the fan going on full.” Illya Kuryakin walked carefully across the floor, paying attention to the landmine of Lego blocks. “This is when I miss the Ukraine the most.”

“Doesn’t it get warm there?”

“Not like it does here.” Illya sat on the bed and flopped backwards. He was wearing just a pair of jockey shorts and his skin glistened with sweat.

“Yes, well, now you know what they mean in the song, _It’s Too Darn Hot_.”

“I knew what it meant well before this very ample display.” Illya stopped and then chuckled softly. “Do you remember that stupid hula doll?”

“Don’t remind me.” Napoleon joined in laughing. “Whose idea was it to hide it in that thing to begin with?”

“Our fearless leader.” Illya shook his head in remembrance. “He figured there was no way THRUSH would figure it out.”

“I don’t know that they ever did… and those two brothers.”

“Their mother was a piece of work, too. Shame they all had to meet such a sticky ending… no pun intended. It was hot then like it is now.”

“Don’t worry… I have no intentions of messing around with anything the least bit heat sensitive in this weather.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I might as well go back to my own room, then.” He sat up and sighed. “Boy, it’s hot.”

“In more ways than one.” Napoleon threw back the sheet. “I’m going to go get some ice water. You want something?”

“Lips, don’t unpurse.”

Napoleon grinned and climbed out of the bed to stand directly in front of the fan. “Just blowing hot air around isn’t helping. I think I’m going to spring for air conditioning.”

“Can we afford it?” They’d been pooling their money for a long time.

“I don’t think we can’t get it. The heat seems worse every year and if I don’t get sleep soon, all of UNCLE might be at jeopardy.” Napoleon shuffled to the kitchen, his own effort to avoid the toys scattered everywhere was by kicking them out of the way. “Maybe we should go downstairs and sleep.”

“There are children down there and I’d have to put on more clothes than I want to.”

Napoleon agreed with that, plus he always tended to wake up a few hours earlier than he wanted to when sleeping down there. He filled two glasses with ice and then water. Illya was standing in front of the window, staring out at the night as he returned.

“You make yourself a prime target, my friend.” Napoleon set the glasses down and climbed back into bed.

“I’m assured this glass is bulletproof. Besides, I’m not a target. You are.” He cranked the side louvres open and took a deep breath and smiled. “The rain is coming.”

“At least that’s something. Can you see lightning?”

“Nope, but my hip says it is and it never lies.” He limped back to the bed and sat slowly, taking the pre-offered glass from Napoleon. He drained it and settled back against the pillows. “I think it’s cooler in your room.”

“You get the setting sun.” A wisp of a breeze danced through the room and Napoleon closed his eyes, savoring it. “Here it comes.”

“I’m going to open my windows and prop the doors open. We should make the most of it while we can.”

“The breeze or the fact that once the storms hits we will have visitors?”

“A bit of both.”

And Napoleon was right. At the second roll of thunder, there was the sound of little feet on their stairs and an anxious, “Grampy?”

“Yes, Alexander?”

“Are you okay? I heard the thunder and got worried about you.”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

The sight of his partner’s drooped eyes the next morning told him that Illya also had had a visitor. “You’re lucky you have Irina. She’s smaller. Alexander takes up all the bed and then some,” Napoleon said in passing.

“Don’t be. She snores… a lot.” He propped himself up against the refrigerator. “And somehow, I need to stay awake through a budget and finance meeting today and the semi-annual range review. There is a word in Portuguese, _burburinho_ that means indistinct and prolonged noise of many people speaking at the same time. There’s nothing as lulling.” Illya yawned loudly enough to crack his jaw. “I don’t remember having these issues when we were younger.”

“We weren’t grandparents then.”

As if on cue, Illya’s bedroom door open and Irina skipped out. “Good morning, Sunshines. Isn’t life glorious?” She waved to her grandfathers and headed for the stairs. As she reached them, she slowed down and took hold of the rail. She’d only had to fall once to remember that there was a time to skip and a time to be careful.

“I’m not a sunshine,” Alex announced as he shuffled from the other bedroom, but she was already gone. His hair stuck out in all direction and he looked more asleep than awake. “I’m a force to be reckoned with. Poppy says so.”

“So I have and on more than one occasion.” Illya poured a cup of coffee and sipped it. “Nectar of the gods. Napoleon?”

“Please, but just pour mine into a gallon bucket.”

“Me, too,” Alex said, joining them. He looked at Illya and beckoned him closer. “Grampy snores.”

Illya smirked at the comment and Napoleon attempted to look indignant. Truth of the matter was that both of them suffered the ill effects to too many broken noses.

“I think you are a bit too young for coffee, Alex,” Illya said, but he went to the refrigerator, poured a glass of milk, added a little sugar and a couple drops of coffee. “Try this instead. It’s Russian coffee.”

“Russian coffee?” Napoleon cocked an eyebrow.

“That’s what my grandfather used to serve me in the mornings and he called it Russian coffee.” Illya finished his cup and poured a second one. “Mind if I shower first?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Napoleon waited until he heard the water running and patted Alex on the shoulder. “Why don’t you head out, Alex? We will follow in just a little while.”

“Okay.” He knuckled an eye and yawned again. “I think I might go back to bed.”

“Your bed.” He started back towards Napoleon’s.

“Okay, my bed.” The voice was a bit sullen, but the boy was already heading downstairs.

“Alone at last.” Napoleon went to the phone and dialed a number. “This is Mr. Solo. I need to talk to Mr. Dunnahey in Finance.”

It only took him a few minutes to rearrange things and then he settled back into his favorite chair to savor his coffee. This was absolutely the right thing to do today. He could feel the correctness of his decision in his bones.

Illya peeked out from the bathroom, a towel knotted about his waist. “All clear?”

“More than you could possibly know.”

Assured that they were alone, Illya grabbed another cup of coffee and walked over to a seat across from Napoleon. “What do you mean by that?”

“Who am I, Illya?”

Illya smiled coyly. “Napoleon Solo, all around good guy.”

“And?”

“My partner.”

“And?”

Illya sighed. “The love of my life, the wind at my back—“

“And?” Napoleon tapped his left shoulder.

“Head of UNCLE HQ – North America.”

“And, most importantly, your boss.” Napoleon stuck his chin out defiantly. 

“In your dreams,” Illya murmured with another smile.

“There, as well. I just made a few phone calls. You have the day off.”

“What? I can’t. I have stuff to do and deadlines--“

“I let them die. And, what’s more, I gave me the day off, too. What’s the use of being the boss if you can’t take advantage of the situation.” He took a deep breath and nodded. “It’ll do Martin good to have a day to spread his wings. He knows when and if to call me. Likewise, it’ll give your second-in-command a chance to see just how exciting it is at the top of the food chain.”

“Section Three? The top of the food chain? Not with Section Two around. I knew I should have been nicer to them back then.”

“You know what they say about paybacks.” Napoleon walked to the refrigerator and opened the door, welcoming the blast of cold air from it. “How about bacon and eggs?”

“Sure, I don’t have much appetite. Are there any hash browns left?”

“Some.”

“I’ll have some of that, too, and some of those doughnuts, if the kids left any.” He stood and stretched, then headed to his bedroom.

Napoleon just shook his head. “Love the man, hate the metabolism.”

*****

Between breakfast and other morning chores, it was close to nine by the time they walked from their small attic apartment and down into the chaos that was the Solo household.

“Is it too late to retreat?”

“Mom, Grampy and Poppy are up. Can I turn cartoons on NOW?” Alex bellowed his question from the foot of the stairs.

“Too late. We have been spotted,” Napoleon said, laughing.

“All right, Alex, but keep it down.”

Illya’s daughter, Lisle, waved up at them, tiredness written across her face. She was holding a twin in each arm. She knelt and set them on their feet. Peter managed a few tottering steps, then dropped to all fours and heading toward the sound of the TV. Inessa cocked her head first one way and then the other and started to walk, holding onto any available surface to keep from falling.

As Napoleon and Illya neared the bottom of the stairs, Lisle gave each one a hug. “Morning, you two. I hope I don’t look as bad as you do.”

“Worse,” Illya murmured into her ear, giving her a fast kiss. “I take it you had as bad a night as we did?”

“Leon got called in around three and I never got back to sleep.” She smiled and bent to pick up a handful of toys. “I don’t sleep well with him gone.”

“Why didn’t he let me know?” Illya was technically his son-in-law’s boss.

“He didn’t want to wake you.” She dumped the toys into a large basket. “He seemed to think they could handle it.”

“He wouldn’t have awaken us. We had visitors of our own in the night.”

“Oh, sorry. I wondered where they’d gotten. When I saw their beds were empty and suspected as much. The storm?”

“The storm.” Napoleon stooped over to gather up his own armful of toys. “Listen, we’ve eaten. Why don’t you go grab a nap or a shower or both and we’ll run counterpoint over the herd?”

She looked skeptically from one to the other. “Don’t you both have work?”

“Unlike poor Leon, we’re playing hooky today.” Napoleon shot his cuffs. “I insisted.” Just then the front door opened and Leon Solo stumbled in. His suit was rumpled and he looked as if he’d been stuck in a well for a week and smelled that way, too. “Speak on the devil, good morning, son.”

“Yeah,” Leon mumbled, attempting to hang up his coat on a coat rack. It fell to the floor and he just looked at it. He looked over at his father and sighed. “Let me just go on record and say that was the worst call out ever. Why would anyone hide something on the city sewer?”

“So far. Trust me that there’s always one worse.” Napoleon glanced over at Illya. His worst call out had been when he was told Illya had had a building collapse upon him. “There are many far worse.”

“Lisle, why don’t you take Leon upstairs? We will entertain the troops down here.” Illya said, giving her a gentle shove in her husband’s direction.

“Are you sure?” She waved her hand in front of her face. “What a pong!” Her British upbringing crept out now and again.

“Never look a gift horse in the mouth, my love.” Leon took her hand and started upstairs. “C’mon, you. I’ll race you to see who goes to sleep first.”

“Ah, youth,” Napoleon said, dropping his armful of toys into the basket. “I don’t know why we bother with this. Within the hour, they will be everywhere.”

“Let’s be real. Some days, it’s the only exercise you get.” Illya smacked him playfully in the stomach.

“Hey!” Anything else Napoleon might have come up with was drowned out by wailing. “Whoops, dissension in the ranks.” He lifted a hand to Illya and they engaged in a quick game of ‘rock, paper, scissors’ before Napoleon grinned. “I’ll take the girls, then.”

“What a surprise.”

****

Illya watched Alexander and Irina splash in the pool, knowing that if it had been indoors and they were in the bathtub, both would have been complaining loudly about the injustice of being forced to bathe.

“You have that look in your eye,” Napoleon said, handing Illya a glass of ice tea.

“Thinking about in inequity of it all. Why are they so happy there, but so unhappy in the tub?”

“Why do you hate filing paper, but don’t mind filing folders?”

“That’s different.” At Napoleon’s skeptical look, Illya continued. “I don’t get paper cuts from folders. At least not as a rule, but water is water.”

“This is outside and voluntary. No matter how you cut it, kids love water.”

“Is there room in there for me?” Lisle appeared, carrying a squirming Peter while Leon followed with Inessa.

“You’re okay, Mommy, but not him.” Irina pointed at her baby brother.

“Irina Solo, I’m surprised at you. Don’t you like your brother?”

“I like him just fine on dry land.” Irina gestured her closer and Lisle leaned in. “He wees in the pool, Mommy.”

“Well, he just took care of that,” Leon said, carrying the second twin. He had a towel around his neck. I swear that kid could rent himself out as a replacement to the Trevi Fountain. Leon plopping Inessa in the water. She squealed and laughed.

“Boom!” She slapped the water and splashed her older siblings, brother and mother.

“INESSA!” Alex and Irina both cried simultaneously. The baby laughed and smacked the water again.

“Well, then I guess Peter isn’t looking so bad now,” Lisle said, easing herself into the water and set Peter between her legs. He stared intently at the figures on the bottom of the pool.

“Ish!” he announced and pointed to a bright red fish. He reached for it, then tilted his head when he was unable to grab it.

“Looks like something that’s going to elude even your appetite, my boy.” Leon settled into a webbed folding chair placed beside the pool, kicked off his shoes and dropped his feet in the water. He tilted his head back and smiled. “Ahhh… talk about the pause that refreshes.”

“Daddy, that’s sodie pop.” Irina wiped some dark hair from her face. “You should watch more TV. You’d be better informed.”

“I think you should watch less of it.” Lisle kept Peter between her legs and away from his older brother, while Inessa giggled and splashed. “Now, Inessa, play nice.”

“Boom!”

“You did put sun screen on, didn’t you?” Napoleon asked from the safety of the shade.

“I did and so did the kids. Leon?”

“I don’t burn,” he said matter of fact.

“Trust me.” Illya tossed him the sun screen. “Everyone burns. It just takes some people a little longer.” He looked over at Napoleon. “I have lots of experience in that area.”

“So how’s the water?”

“About one winter in inch,” Irina grumbled, remembering her climb into the cool water. “It’s not very warm, but it would be better without babies.”

“Sorry, it’s a baby wading pool.” Lisle smirked at her daughter’s grumpiness. “I think maybe someone needs a nap.”

“I know I do,” Illya muttered.

“Not me.” Alex’s protest would have meant more if he hadn’t yawned in the middle of it. “Guess I am a little tired.”

“Come on, Alex,” Napoleon said, standing and tossing his a towel “Let’s go study the back of our eyelids for a while.”

“If he’s going, I’m going, too!” Irina yelled.

“No you aren’t! It’s just me and Grampy.” He stuck his tongue out at her, climbed from the pool and raced to his grandfather’s side.

“I’m telling!”

Lisle shook her head. “You don’t have to, Irina. I’m right here. Alex, apologize, please.”

“I don’t want to.”

This time the voice was firm. “Alexander David Solo, apologize.”

Napoleon murmured softly, “When she uses your whole name, you’re sunk. You’d better do as she says.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Irina, but you’re such a copycat.”

“She does that because she loves you.” Napoleon led the boy away by his hand.

“What? She can’t! She’s my sister! Ick.”

Irina stood, ready to shout, but Illya cut her off.

“Irina, have I ever told you the story about when Baba Yaga steals a boy and he’s rescued by a kind and brave girl?”

“No, Poppy.”

“Shall we?” He gestured to the door and held out a brightly colored towel for her to wrap up in.

She nodded happily. “We shall.”

****

Napoleon opened his eyes and was disoriented for the moment. A teddy bear was staring into his face and the bed had odd lumps in it. He rolled over and pulled out a baseball mitt. Looking at it for a moment, he tried to figure out what it was doing in his bed. Then he smiled. He’d taken Alex to his room, intent upon settling the boy down to sleep and must have fallen asleep as well.

He sat up and stretched his back. He was a little stiff and his clothes stuck to his sweaty body, but Napoleon had to admit that he felt a bit better for the rest. A short nap was all he needed… that’s when he saw the clock.

“Four hours? I’ve been asleep four hours?” he asked no one in particular.

He climbed off the bed and walked to the window, pulling the blinds reveal a day drawing to a close. He seemed a bit cooler and he shivered suddenly at the breeze blowing in. Another storm was coming.

A trip to the bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair helped, but he still felt a bit disoriented. He wasn’t used to sleeping during the day and he was a bit annoyed that he’d slept away much of his day off.

He came into the kitchen and Lisle was seated in front of two high chairs, trading off first one then the other baby with baby food.

“You are always feeding them,” he said sitting down at the table.

“You should try nursing them. I thought Peter was permanently attached.” Peter opened his mouth for the approaching spoonful of orange puree. “At least I don’t have to worry about his being fussy.”

“I was sure Irina would starve when she was their age.”

“She is our fussy eater.”

“Where is everyone else?”

“Outside. Leon is grilling some hotdogs and hamburgers and Dad is supervising. Do you feel better now?”

“I do, but I’m also a little sheepish. I didn’t mean to sleep that long.”

“You needed it and so did Dad and the kids.”

“Don’t tell Illya that I just got up. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“Don’t worry, he just got up himself about twenty minutes ago.” Lisle scraped the last bit of food from the jar and set it aside with the three other empty jars. She reached for some chunks of fruit and dropped them into the trays before the babies. Peter happily grabbed a piece of banana and mashed it into his mouth. Inessa began to stack her fruit or at least tried to.

“I wonder if she’s going to be an architect.”

“Boom!” she cried and smashed the bits into mush.

“Or go into explosive ordinances. She does seem to take after her grandfather in that regard.”

“Did Dad really blow up an entire THRUSH compound with the help of an old 49ner and a donkey?”

Napoleon placed a hand over his heart. “All true.”

Lisle smirked a little. “How did THRUSH manage to survive you two in your heyday?”

“A question I ask to this very day.” He slapped his hands together. “Is there something I can do?”

“Ah, sure.” Lisle looked around, then pointed to a pot in the sink. “Those potatoes need to be drained and cut up into chunks.”

“You making potato salad?” He was hopeful as he stood up slowly.

She kissed his cheek. “And just the way you like it.” She pointed to the refrigerator. “The mac salad is already made and cooling.”

“It’s going to be a party.” Napoleon donned a frilly apron and headed for the pot while Lisle cleaned off the twins’ hands and faces with a washcloth.

“Well, it’s not often that I have all three of my men at home with me. I thought I’d celebrate. Plus I had a little time after I put the twins down.”

There was a distance rumble of thunder and Inessa looked surprised, then she laughed and clapped her hands. “Boom!”

“Does she ever say anything else?” Napoleon asked as he drained the potatoes and began to chop them. It took him very little time to complete the task, then he turned his attention to an onion. He chopped it quickly, sniffing once or twice as his eyes watered.

“Not so much that we’ve noticed.” Lisle found some clean napkins and dabbed at his cheeks.

“Thank you.”

Irina came running in, her eyes big and round. “Did you hear that?”

“We did,” her mother answered. “I think we might need to have our picnic inside at the table.”

“But then it’s just regular old dinner.”

Napoleon rinsed off his hands and dried them on the apron. “Why don’t you go back outside and help the menfolk get stuff ready to come in and we will take care of things in here?”

“But, Grampy—”

“Trust me, sweetheart.”

“I’d like to, Grampy, but Poppy says he doesn’t trust you any farther than he can throw--”

“Never mind what he says, you can trust me.”

“Okay.” She took a couple of steps, then turned back. “Don’t break my heart, Grampy.”

“That girl.” Lisle got some Italian dressing and poured it onto the still-warm potatoes.

“She’s going to be a handful when she starts dating.”

“If she lives that long. Hand me those onions, will you, Dad?” She added them to the potatoes and transferred the bowl into the fridge to cool. “So what are we going to do about a picnic?”

“Toss a blanket on the floor in the family room. We’ll put Illya in the recliner. I know he won’t protest too much.”

“How is his hip these days? He’s pretty tight lipped around me.”

“Like so many other aches and pains, he has good and bad days. Being here with all of you, though, does him a world of good.”

“Are you sure? I worry.”

“What do you worry about?” Illya entered at that point carrying a tray of cooked hot dogs and hamburgers.

“You, mostly.” Lisle opened the oven door and let him slip the tray in. “Are you sure the kids aren’t too much for you? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in a place of your own, the two of you?”

Illya slid the tray in carefully. “To be honest, if it wasn’t for you and the kids, I’d probably be dead by now.” Napoleon made a face and Illya smiled. “I did say probably.” He pulled Lisle to him and hugged her. “You are a miracle that I never thought could happen.” He kissed her forehead and grinned at the noise behind him.

“Ewww, get a room, you two.” Leon then followed it with a laugh as he entered. “I’m ready for the steaks and the corn as well. I’ve got to move fast. There’s a storm coming.”

“Steaks?” Napoleon looked confused but delighted.

“I sprang for some. I thought it would be a nice treat for a special day.” Illya released his daughter and picked up his granddaughter.

“Boom!” She waved her hands and lift her arms, indicating that she wanted up and out of the high chair. Peter was still chasing a bit of mashed fruit around on his tray, his attention focused upon that and nothing else.

“Yes, boom, indeed.” To Lisle, he asked. “Did you listen to a lot of Tchaikovsky when you were carrying here?”

“With emphasis on the _1812 Overture.”_ She caught her daughter’s tiny hands in a wash cloth.

Illya pulled the steaks out of the refrigerator along with some ears of corn wrapped in tin foil. “Here, Leon.” Illya passed the platter to him and then snagged a couple bottles of beer. He glanced over at his smirking partner. “It’s hot work grilling.”

“I can see Leon needed it, but you?”

“Any job is ten percent work, twelve percent planning, forty percent communication and sixty percent luck.”

“I thought…” Napoleon trailed off as Illya nodded and headed back out to the back yard. Then he stopped and counted mentally. “That’s 122 percent, Illya.”

“Yeah, I’m not as lucky as you.”

That thought stayed with Napoleon throughout their impromptu picnic in the family room. Alex and Irina were thrilled at the thought of eating anywhere other than the kitchen. In their playpen, the twins babbled and played with their toys, taking time out for the occasional handful of potato salad.

“Can I give Petey some hotdog?” Irina fished a chunk out of her mouth and held it up.

Lisle shook her head, her blonde hair bouncing in the light. “He can’t chew very well yet, sweetheart. He doesn’t have enough quite teeth.”

“Really?”

Lisle lightly touched her breast. “Trust me on this one.”

“I bet he’d gum it to death, though.” Leon looked tempted.

“Leon, you take care of your section and leave the children rearing to an expert,” Lisle said, softly.

He grinned and saluted while helping himself to another beer.

Illya leaned back in a recliner, eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips, his half empty plate balanced in a knee.

“You okay there, partner?”

“I was just thinking of some of the places I’ve been. I’ve dined at some of the best restaurants in the world.”

“And the worst. Yum, whale blubber.”

That made Illya grin. “And I’ve met kings, heads of state, very important scientists and scholars.” He opened his eyes. “Now I sit with toys scattered everywhere, rain pouring down, my partner close at hand, siblings arguing--”

“What’s sibling? Is that a naughty word?” Alex was intrigued.

“It means a brother or sister. Irina, Peter and Inessa are your siblings and you are theirs.”

“Darn,” Alex muttered. “Just when I thought I was on to something.”

“Anyhow, I wouldn’t trade this for the world.”

“Then you were wrong.”

“Me? Wrong?”

“Yup.” Napoleon handed him a beer. “Earlier this evening you said you weren’t lucky.” Napoleon smiled at his family and then back at his partner. “I think we are two of the luckiest men in the world.”

Illya touched his bottle to Napoleon. “I will drink to that. Here to our good fortune.” Then the power went out.


End file.
